


gas station

by super_duper_edgy



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Belleville, Cookies, Fluff, Gas Station, M/M, Musicals, Red hair!Gerard, Revenge!Frank, Short Story, This is cute, frank is an edgy twenty-year-old, gerard likes to draw in new york, read this if you're sad and like frerard, this is a super short story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 20:40:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14941014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/super_duper_edgy/pseuds/super_duper_edgy
Summary: Gerard happily lives in New York but comes to visit his family in his small hometown of Belleville, New Jersey. Frank is a loser who works at a gas station and has more tattoos than he has friends.





	gas station

**Author's Note:**

> this was made over the course of many long nights, several songs by the 1975 and billie eilish, along with many bottles of gatorade that I consumed way too fast. enjoy, hopefully.

He had to pee. Like really, really fucking bad.

And if it wasn't bad enough, Gerard's phone had died twenty minutes ago, it looked like it was gonna rain, and he was back home in Belleville. But not in his parent's house, or his brother Mikey's apartment, nope, he was on a walk. Forty miles away from anyone he knew, a car almost out of gas, and a really shitty bladder.

Gerard tried to get to a gas station, he really did, and he got there eventually, once he pushed his beat-up car a half mile down the vacant highway.  _Damn_ , he thought to himself,  _where the hell are people when you need them_?

After an eternity of suffering (more like twenty minutes), Gerard got his car into the vintage-looking gas station. There was a young guy inside, maybe a couple years younger than him, but he wasn't paying attention to Gerard struggling, no, he was far too occupied by an intense game of Crossy Road. And once his car had been put into place, Gerard took out a crumpled twenty dollar bill and walked slowly to the stranger at the station.

Gerard didn't notice before, but the man at the counter was covered in tattoos. He wondered to himself silently how he had gotten a job.

Then the rain started. Only a little drizzle at first, but then slowly it progressed into a vicious downpour. With the pattering of the rain more noticeable, the guy at the counter looked up from his phone.

"Can I get fifteen dollars on, um, pump five?"

The guy -his nametag read Frank- nodded his head slowly. "Anything else, dude?"

Gerard thought for a second. "Yeah, I guess," he looked at the little tray beside the tip jar and picked up a pack of gum. "I'll get this too."

"Alrighty then," Frank replied, his hand held out for Gerard's money.

Gerard hesitated for a moment, unfreezing within seconds. He placed the wrinkling old bill in Frank's dry hand, staring at the ' _ween_ ' tattoo on his knuckles.

"'M'kay, your total is $17.38. Your change is $2.62, do ya want a receipt?" Frank said with a heavy Jersey accent.

"Na, I'm good," Gerard replied calmly. "Uh, hey, random question. Do you guys have a bathroom?"

"Yeah, it's in the back. Third door on your right."

So Frank threw out the receipt once it was printed, pressed a few buttons on a computer monitor. Gerard assumed that it was putting fifteen dollars' worth of gas on pump five, and not porn. The guy didn't even look older than seventeen, for Christ's sake!

And once Gerard was content with his gum and two dollars and sixty-two cents in his pocket, he went to the tiny little bathroom, the third door on his right.

Once he finished pissing, he messed up some of his red hair a bit, cautious not to make it looked like he cared about his hair. And so he left. He left the disgusting bathroom, with its graffitied drawings, people's phone numbers, a very detailed drawing of a dick.

And he left the gas station, with its teenage employees, and off-brand candy, and gum that would lose its flavor in five minutes. So, he waved goodbye to Frank and his heavy Jersey accent, hoping to God, if he did exist, that he would never see Frank or this place again.

But of course, that's not exactly what happened.

A big bolt of lightning came down, striking the electrical system of the store. And in one big  _poof_ , the small gas station lost electricity.

And not to derail from the main story, but Frank's uncle had prided himself on the fact that the doors locked once there was no running power. And so, that meant that Gerard and Frank were left alone, in a cold station.

" _Shit_ ," Frank exclaimed loudly. Gerard turned around, one eyebrow raised.

Mumbling under his breath about his 'stupid goddamn uncle', he exited the counter area and walked over to one of the candy shelves. Once there, he grabbed a vegan chocolate bar and ripped it right open. Gerard raised his other eyebrow. What the actual hell was happening.

"Um, shit, well I'm F-Frank, but you're probably smart and read my name tag, so you already know that."

Gerard nodded hesitantly. "Yeah," he whispered. "I'm Gerard, by the way."

Frank forced a small smile on his face from hearing this. "Not a common name. That's cool."

"Yeah."

And they sat in awkward silence for what felt like an entire century, according to Frank. He was completely oblivious to the fact that Gerard had started to move until Gerard was at the door, cursing under his breath about the door being stuck 'or some shit'.

"I probably should have told you this," Frank said, "but my stupid uncle thought it would be cool to shut the doors when there's no running power in here. Seemed pretty cool before I actually got stuck here. My uncle is the only one who has the keys to this hellhole, but he's in Summit now. He'll be back tomorrow. So I guess we'll be here for a couple more hours. Might as well get comfy, Gerard."

Gerard sighed. "I was supposed to see family today. I miss them like crazy. And my stupid phone is dead, Jesus Christ! Nothing is going how it's supposed to be."

And Gerard was right. He was supposed to be on his way home, meeting Mikey and his parents, spending the night in his old room, with the paint-stained Star Wars sheets. Goddamn, he missed those Star Wars sheets.

"And it's stupid too! If I didn't have to piss, I probably wouldn't be here, I'd be with Ma and Dad and Mikey! I really fucking  _hate_  myself, 'scuse my language, if you will."

Frank shrugged. "It's fine, I swear all the time. And that sucks. My family isn't that cool. Mom and Dad hate each other's guts, and the only thing that loves all of us is my dog."

Gerard chuckled a little bit and sat down on the hard floor of the store. He patted the spot on his left, motioning for Frank to sit down with him. Frank ran his tongue over his cold lip piercing and repeated Gerard's actions.

"So let's play 20 questions, okay?" Frank mumbled.

"Okay," Gerard smiled. "What's your favorite color?"

"Green, like real nice electric, all in your face, green. Yours?"

"It's not really a color, but I guess black would be mine. I dyed my hair black a couple years ago. It looked pretty Satanic," Gerard replied, laughing a bit at the end.

"That's smart, you're smart. What, did you go to clown college or something?" Frank laughed.

Gerard's cheeks darkened. "Art school, actually."

Frank snorted. "Practically the same thing."

"Oh yeah?" Gerard retorted. "You don't even look like you're in a secondary education level, much less out of high school! What are you, seventeen? Are you gonna start singing Veronica's part of  _Seventeen_  and get all bitchy about JD killing Chandler, Kurt, and Ram?"

This time Frank blushed. "N-No, I'm twenty! And if I  _was_ gonna sing a song from  _Heathers the Musical_ , I would sing  _My Dead Gay Son_ , because it takes on to know one."

Gerard burst out laughing. " _You're gay_? Dear God, I knew my gaydar was all messed up!"

Frank joined in on his laughter soon after Gerard finished his sentence. Maybe his uncle wasn't so bad for making the doors seal when there wasn't electricity there.

Soon after though, the laughter died down, the young men were left in each other's company.

"So, if I'm twenty, how old are you, 'Mr. I'm sorry my gaydar is terrible, especially when my hair looked really satanic a few years ago'?"

Smiling softly, Gerard replied. "Twenty-four, twenty-five in April."

"April what?" Frank questioned, sounding rather childish in Gerard's opinion.

"Ninth. I was born on a Saturday. Not really that exciting. You probably have so much more of an interesting birthday than I do."

"Halloween?" Frank shrugged, making his statement sound more like a question.

"See! That's so much cooler than  _April fucking ninth_. Halloween is like, the best time of the year."

Looking down at his knuckles, Frank silently agreed. Usually Frank would have been more excited to talk about his birthday, but when you're in the presence of a really  _really_ cute guy, that just so happens to be gay, it kinda shuts you up, if you know what I mean.

"So that's why you have  _Halloween_ tattooed on your knuckles. That's fucking dope, man!" Gerard silently cringed when he said 'dope', but continued talking anyway. "I'd totally get tattoos, but I'm kinda terrified of needles."

Frank smiled a little at the latter of Gerard's mini-rant. "Scared of needles, dear God, what else are you scared of, cats?"

"Tragically allergic, sorry. But it's cats or get the fuck out."

Frank snorted, almost sounding like a pig, which sent Gerard laughing, and that caused Frank to start laughing too.

From an outside perspective, it seemed like the two men knew each other, and hadn't met five minutes ago. It seemed like they knew each other's deepest, darkest secrets, the ins and outs of each other, and not just their favorite color or birthday.

It seemed like they loved each other, it seemed like they had a future of some sort, or at least knew what they were going to do together next week.

But they didn't. Frank didn't know Gerard's middle name, or his genius comic book ideas and sketches to go with them. Gerard didn't know Frank's hidden passion for playing guitar and writing lyrics like a poet.

And it saddened Gerard once he had calmed down from the laughter. Maybe he didn't have a future with this cute guy at the gas station, maybe he did. Maybe if it wasn't raining he wouldn't have had a second thought about this encounter. He could have been home by now. But to be honest, Gerard didn't really care. He likes laughing with Frank. He liked being himself around a short guy with a terrible haircut.

"Holy shit," Frank breathed out. "I don't think I've ever laughed that hard since, like, the eighth grade."

Gerard smiled at him in reply. It seemed like this euphoric energy had surrounded them. Nobody was complaining, though.

Soon enough, the sun that was already setting started to go even lower, almost gone, but there still. Gerard noticed, and stood up, gesturing for Frank to mimic his movements. Frank did, after a moment of hesitation, following Gerard, hearing him hum something that sounded an awful lot like the Overture from  _Phantom of the Opera_.

Frank grinned quickly.  _He likes musical theatre. Definitely a keeper._

Once Gerard had gotten to the part where the ensemble had started to chant 'the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind', Frank joined.

It took Gerard a second to realize Frank had started to hum along, not even aware that he was humming himself, but once he did, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He hoped to God (again, twice in one day!) that he knew something from  _Les Misérables_.

Gerard and Frank both couldn't deny that their mutual love for  _Phantom_  was something to look over.

They continued humming softly and walking around the small store together. Gerard wanted to hold Frank's hand. Frank wanted to hold Gerard's. They both wanted John Lennon's ghost to suck their dicks,  _hell yeah_  they wanted to hold each other's hand, but they didn't want to sing about it.

And many minutes passed, them humming songs from their favorite Broadway productions, hoping that the other would recognize and start humming along, or if they didn't, talk passionately about it until they couldn't anymore.

Soon, it stopped being hums. It turned into mumbled lyrics, and that turned into Gerard screaming  _Wicked_ at the top of his lungs. Frank couldn't keep a straight face, for multiple reasons. First, Gerard looked like an idiot, but a cute idiot, he decided. And second, Frank was gayer than Kurt from  _Glee_.

Gerard didn't stop until he got to the part in the song where Fiyero held Elphaba close into his chest. Frank, praying silently, hoped he was Fiyero in this situation. He knew he wasn't, but a boy could hope.

Gerard's strong melodies faded when he got to the part where they suddenly kissed, passionately. He couldn't, even though he wanted nothing more than to kiss the living shit out of the short guy in his arms. He couldn't because he didn't know if he felt the same way. Just because he was gay, didn't mean that he had to like Gerard, even though he really wanted him to.

They almost kissed though, they both leaned in, but pulled out and faced the other way, hair covering their blushing cheeks.

"So," Frank mumbled quietly.

"Yeah," Gerard said breathlessly.

They stayed in those positions for what seemed like hours, making eye contact, but shifting so quickly. And as the two kept wanting to kiss the other even more than before, the sun set quietly in the background, leaving nothing but cloudy skies and an unseen moon. That also meant that temperature dropped rapidly because of the lack of a heater and the lack of sunlight.

Frank shivered.

"Oh, you must be cold-" Gerard said slowly, before being interrupted by Frank.

"No, Gee, it's fine. I'm fine."

Gerard knew he was lying. You could see Frank's straight teeth rubbing against each other in an attempt to make friction.

Gerard sighed.

He knew he should listen to Frank, but he was cold, and he would look even cuter in Gerard's jacket that was seven sizes too big for him. So he took off his leather jacket, walked the distance separating him and Frank, and wrapped the jacket around Frank.

"You're wearing this, no if's, and's, or but's about it. You look frozen, Frankie."

Frank melted into Gerard's hands that stayed on his shoulders. He pulled Gerard into a warm hug, standing on his tippy toes just to be at shoulder level with him.

"Thanks," Frank whispered, tiredness hiding in his breath.

"Let's get you to sleep, Elphaba, you look exhausted," Gerard replied, cautious of a sleepy Frank. He laid Frank down on a softer part of the floor, spooning him ever so slightly. Just because he was a bottom doesn't mean he couldn't be the big spoon.

Frank shifted his weight, turning on his side to face Gerard's chest. Gerard could feel the heat of Frank's breath in his neck, and he didn't mind one bit. Gerard whispered sweet nothings into his ear, plastering a small smile on Frank's face.

Soon he heard the small snores of Frank drifting into slumber, making a small note in his head about how cute Frank looked when he was asleep.

And Gerard too fell asleep soon, the idea of tomorrow far away in his mind. All that mattered was that Frank was in Gerard's arms and Gerard was happy, for the first time, he wasn't at home with his family. Sure, it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable, but he had Frank. There wasn't a Frank at his parent's house, last he checked.

The rain and storm died down soon after Gerard had fallen asleep, leaving them in silence, minus the small snores and heavy breathing.

They both slept soundly when the power returned at around three am that morning. They were both blissfully unaware that in only a couple short hours, events that they hadn't dreamed of would play out, or that Frank's uncle, however goddamn stupid he was, was a hell of a matchmaker.

***

"Frank Anthony! What the hell are you doing on the floor? And who is this?"

The loud yells of his uncle woke Frank up quickly. It seems they only made Gerard stir, but he remained unconscious.

"Will you quiet the fuck down? He's trying to sleep, goddamn it! I'll explain everything outside, but for now, shut the hell up!" Frank whisper-yelled to his uncle.

And he did, for once, Frank didn't leave a detail out. He told the story of getting locked in with Gerard, his uncle extremely proud that the doors locked like he planned. He continued with the twenty questions, and the tension between to two, and how cold he was last night.

After talking about the events that happened, Frank had sighed, thankful that Gerard had stayed before the power went out. Maybe his uncle wasn't  _that_ stupid?

Frank's uncle could see the distress in his nephew's eyes, a look of concern whether he would have a future with the stranger on his tile floor. He hoped, for Frank and Gerard's sake that they had even a small future, and if they ever got married, it would be him giving the speech on how they met. But, the only problem was that he didn't know whether or not Gerard reciprocated Frank's strong crush. He hoped so, Frank spoke so highly of him after he wriggled out of his tight grip.

So he walked in, finding Gerard passed out between the candy and snack aisle. It seemed like they had a party in between their constant singing.

Shaking him gently, Gerard woke up.

"Frank," he asked, voice husked because he had just woken up. "Frankie, is that you?"

"'Fraid not, kid, but I do happen to be related to him," the uncle said cheerily. He noticed Gerard's flaming hair, making a small resemblance to an old sunburn he had a bunch of years ago.

Gerard opened his eyes, strained temporarily by the strong sunlight flooding from the opened doors of the gas station. He was hoisted onto his feet from who he assumed was Frank's uncle, and ran his hand through his hair a bunch of times.

"Tim Iero, at your service," Frank's uncle said, holding out his right hand to shake. Gerard looked at it cautiously for a second and shook it. That man had a strong grip he wasn't prepared for. "You must be Gerard, correct?"

Gerard nodded quickly, his eyes a bit more used to the natural sunlight now.

"Awesome. Frank's outside, if you were wondering."

Gerard shifted his gaze from Tim, focusing more on Frank rather than Tim's side conversation.

Frank was smoking, looking at peace as he held the cigarette between his tattooed fingers. He made the death stick look like art, a cliché Gerard had heard many times, but it seemed like it was actually art when Frank smoked. He only wished he had brought his art stuff, back in his small New York studio.

"Frank?"

Frank spun his head back. He smiled. "Hey, Gee."

And they talked for a while, Tim still inside the store, a big grin on his face. They talked for a little while, Gerard saying at the end how he needed to leave for his parents' house. Frank grimaced when it was mentioned, but not before Gerard had given Frank his number.

Gerard drove off, hoping that Frank would call. He saw Frank wave in the distance of his rearview mirror. He smiled to himself as Smashing Pumpkins played softly in the background, content for a little while longer.

He pulled into his parents' driveway about forty minutes later, the ghost of a smile on his face. When he reached the front door, he was greeted with hugs and home-cooked meals that he had forgotten about. He saw his Star Wars sheets, the ones he missed so much.

Mikey had noticed he seemed out of it, not really here or there, just  _present_. He couldn't explain it.

"You okay, Gee?" Mikey had asked after Gerard had gotten off the phone with Frank, secretly making arrangements to meet the following week.

Gerard smiled widely. "I'm perfect, Mikes. Thanks for asking. And a question, were you the son of a bitch that ate all the goddamn Thin Mints mom promised me a couple days ago?"

*

**Author's Note:**

> end. hope you enjoyed, sorry it's pretty short. hopefully, if i end up doing more of these, they get better.  
> ~carly ★


End file.
